From Bangkok to Calgary
by Emily-Of-Midgard
Summary: Love of mine/someday you will die/but I'll be close behind. Angsty Brassius drabble inspired by Death Cab for Cutie.


Title: From Bangkok to Calgary

Summary: _Love of mine/someday you will die/but I'll be close behind_. Brassius drabble inspired by Death Cab for Cutie.

Warnings: Slash (but nothing explicit) , character death, angst

AN: I've never written for this couple before but I'm in a bit of a slump right now and this sad little drabble wouldn't leave me alone. The dialogue in this is paraphrased from Act 5, Scene 5 and this whole fic was inspired by "I will Follow you into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie.

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Marcus Junius Brutus may have been idealistic but he wasn't so naïve as to expect that there was a heaven. At least, there was no heaven that he was going to get into.

The priests and priestesses of his youth had often told him that there was an underworld, a haven for brave Romans and illustrious heroes. In the same breath, they spoke of a hell for cowards, traitors, and tyrants. Brutus could say, after everything he had done, that he wasn't a tyrant. Nor did he see himself as a coward.

That only left 'traitor'.

As he sat on a cold rock on the cliffs of a Greek battlefield, he preferred to push away the thoughts of 'traitor' bouncing around his head. He preferred to look out across the field, reflecting on how he had gotten here.

That question had an easy answer: Cassius. Caius Cassius had led him to rise against Caesar, had led him to flee Rome, had led him to raise armies, had led him to his bed, had led him to kiss him with that way he had.

Damn him.

Damn him for taking the easy way out.

Damn him for killing himself over a misunderstanding.

Damn him for leaving him alone.

He wasn't sure when Cassius had seized such a grip on his heart. Somewhere between the death of Caesar and his current position, his brother in law had managed to earn the love he had once born for Portia. Marcus Brutus was lucky enough to have two loves of his life and unlucky enough to have them both die at their own hands. If Brutus wasn't as inclined to stoicism as he was, he would have laughed at the irony.

Cassius was dead and Brutus knew he himself didn't have long. The ghost of Caesar had all but confirmed his fate: he was to die here far from the Rome and people he loved.

'Did you know this was going to happen?' He directs his thoughts towards Cassius though he knows (he hopes) Cassius is beyond caring about such matters. 'I can't imagine that you did. I don't think any of us imagined how this would end.'

The night seemed to grow colder, almost as a response. He wonders if it is the ghost of Caesar come back to torment him or if it some new specter of a dead friend. Either way, he wouldn't be surprised.

"Clitus," Brutus found himself calling out. "A word."

He whispered his request in the soldier's ear and he reacted how he expected he would. "No sir! Not for the world!"

He moved on. "Dardanius?"

"No sir." Dardanius responded when Brutus asked, a look of horror on his face. 'Yet not surprise,' Brutus noted. It seemed like everyone knew what was coming.

Volumnius also responded negatively, remarking that what Brutus wanted was not for a friend. He sighed to himself, allowing that show of emotion, and as the alarms went up, he bid he remaining officers goodbye.

"Farewell to you, and you, and you Volumnius…"

Was it only a little while ago that he had fought with Cassius in the tent, forced to endure his screaming and carrying on when he knew that Cassius didn't mean it and it was simply his temper? Was it only yesterday that he had bid him goodbye for the last time on his birthday? Brutus was horrified when, on reflection, he couldn't remember the last time he kissed him.

And…he had never told him he loved him, had he?

Well, if there was something after life, he could always tell him there.

"Strato," He said as the other soldiers left. "A word."

As the sword pierced his chest, Brutus could almost feel _something_ rejoice at his immense demise. "Caesar, now be still. I killed you with ought half so good a will." He whispered as he fell to the ground. He managed to get one last look at the faded, battered battlefield before his eyes closed permanently.

Darkness surrounded him. Though he could not see in front of his face, he flung his arms out as if to break his fall. 'If there's anything,' Brutus thought suddenly. 'Now would be a good time for it to show up.'

Suddenly, Brutus' hand was clasp by another. He twisted his head around desperately to see who it was but he couldn't make anything out. The hand was familiar though as it gripped his like iron. Brutus found himself relaxing.

Though he could not see him, he clasped Cassius's hand tightly as the two waited for the hint of a spark.


End file.
